“Nothing of consequence.”
Without the slightest hint of hesitation, she lowered herself into the chair that faced the desk. “Is this about last night? About Dosia?”
Richard’s shoulders stiffened. “Partly.”
She leaned forward slightly. “Have you finally admitted to yourself how you feel about her?”
He avoided her gaze. “It’s irrelevant.”
“Is it?”
“She is under my protection. That is all.”
“You do realize I was not born yesterday.”
He exhaled. “She is merely a baronet’s daughter. A companion.Society would see it as a scandal if I were to pursue her. My title demands a marriage that improves our standing.”
“And Dosia cannot do that?”
“No,” he said, sharper than intended. “Do you think I’ve forgotten how precarious Olivia’s reputation is? I need a bride whose lineage is unimpeachable. Someone who will help restore what was lost.”
His mother tilted her head. “And Dosia is not enough for you?”
“She is too much,” he admitted. “Too clever. Too honest. Too… everything. But none of it matters.”
She stood and approached him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “You sound very much like your father just now. Strong. Proud. Stubborn.”
“I am responsible for this family. I cannot afford to follow the dictates of my heart.”
“Even if it costs you your happiness?”
He stared out the window, jaw clenched. “My happiness is not what matters.”
“It should be.”
“I deceived her,” he said. “I brought her here under false pretenses. How could I ask her to forgive that?”
His mother was silent for a long moment before saying, “Tell her the truth.”
“And risk the one lead we have on Mr. Smith?”
She met his gaze. “You’ll have to choose, Richard—your heart, or your pride.”
He flinched. “It was easier when Father was alive.”
A shadow crossed her features. “Yes. And I miss him still.”
“As do I.”
“But I see him in you and Olivia every day. That helps. More than you know.”
He saw the sadness in her eyes. “How are you faring, truly?”
“I take each day as it comes.”
“Mother—”
She waved him off. “Shall we go to breakfast?”
